Cibola
by BananaPieThiefX
Summary: When Ben reads the first draft of Riley's next book, the story of Cibola told from Riley's point of view...
1. Preface

**AN: **So uh the evil plot bunny won't leave me alone on this one. I will be writing this at the same time as _The Annoying Little Sister. _I am not actively working on any other stories right now, except my chat fic, which updates as I get ideas.

**Disclaimer: **Bah. I owns nothing. I simply wish to own Riley...

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"_C'mon Ben, Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?" Ben groaned. Riley's pouty face, complete with puppy dog eyes, was too much to resist. _

"_Okay, okay I will read it,_ if_ you don't read over my shoulder," Ben said. The younger man's face was the picture of glee. _

"_Awww thanks," Riley said. Ben almost snorted, as if there was any other option. Besides, it got Riley out of his hair for a while. _

"_Now go on, shoo," Ben ordered playfully. Riley slunk off to his favorite room in Ben's house, the kitchen. Ben flipped through the papers, glad they were typed instead of Riley's illegible scrawl. He chuckled to himself in anticipation and began to read…_

_Cibola_

By Riley Poole

**DEDICATION**

_This book is dedicated to…_

Ben, for being a great friend

Abigail, for not killing me yet

The President, for returning my Ferrari

**PREFACE**

So, if you're reading this, chances are you read my first book. But, if not (Ben), if you forgot (Ben), didn't feel the need to take the time, (Ben), had no idea I had even written a book (Abigail…), or was too busy 'moving' (Ben), than I'd like you to know that I appreciate your actually taking the time to read this one. And hopefully not because I had to make you. If you're _not_ reading this book and any of the above applies to you (Abi, this probably means you), than I pity you for missing out on such a wonderfully told story.

Whether you read it or not, you should know that this is _not_ a sequel to my first book. This is the story of how the City of Gold was _really _found. Told in first person by one of the finders, me, Riley Poole.

First of all, the papers have it _all_ wrong, and they _certainly_ didn't give us the whole story. But what on this green (usually) Earth did you expect from our media anyway?

Soooo, without further stalling for the purpose of a decent-length prologue (which I still haven't managed to accomplish here), I present to you the story of one of the seven long lost cities of gold. The _real_ story of Cibola.

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**AN: **Review!!


	2. Ch 1 Ben Needs MY Help

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AN:

The long awaited First chapter...

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**Chapter One: Ben Needs **_**My**_** Help**

Three hours. I sat there, staring out the window for THREE HOURS waiting for someone to want a signed copy of my book. But nothing. No one came. You have no _idea_ how frustrating that was! Suddenly this awesomely hot girl walked up to me. She looked at my book (Titled 'The Templar Treasure') and asked if it was a book about the Templar Treasure. I knew all hope was lost then, but I answered anyway.

"Yes, it is a book about the Templar Treasure. But it's _also _about other things, conspiracy theories, urban legends and _other_ myths that are true." I nodded importantly.

"And the author's here signing copies?"

I grinned. "I'm the author," I said.

"You are." It was said disbelievingly. Come _on_! I didn't get any credit for anything around here.

"Yeah," I opened the book to the back to show her. "There's a picture of me, right here." I imitated the pose in the picture. "I think it's a pretty good picture."

"I thought that guy Ben Gates found the treasure…"

_Here we go again…_ "Yes, Ben did. But I am the _co_-finder," I explained. Pretty important, right?

Wrong. "Oh," she said, "I've never heard of you," and walked off. Needless to say I was not having the best of days. And then came incredibly hot girl #2.

"Oh my gosh, are you Ben Gates?" she asked.

_Um, NO! Do I _look_ forty years old people? I don't think so!! _"Yes, yeas I am," I replied.

"Do you own a red Ferrari?" she asked. Ah yes, my car my totally awesome 5 million dollar car. I sensed a change for the better in my fortunes.

I removed my glasses in a very cool way. "Yes, yes I do," I said.

"Well, its being towed," said the girl matter-of-factly.

"Hm?" I looked out the window and laughed nervously. Sure enough, there was my car, being loaded up onto a truck. I replaced my glasses, got up, and went to casually inform the men that they were taking my car.

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_Ben's shoulder's shook with laughter. Casually informed? Ben had it on good authority that Riley had chased the tow truck, waving his arms and shouting like a madman for four and a half blocks before returning dejectedly to reclaim his items from Borders. Ben regained his composure and continued to read… _

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Okay, the evil truck driver dudes took my car. I was peeved. Nobody, _nobody_, not even Ben, touched that car other than me. Determined to find out why, I investigated (asked the driver) and found out that it was being impounded by the IRS. So much for a change of fortune. This was all my accountant's fault. Him and stupid little winky eye. So anyway, I had to manually haul all my leftover stuff (everything I started with actually) all the way to my apartment. On foot. Alone.

When I got there I received a surprise, Ben was sitting on my doorstep, reading. Not my book, of course. Why would anyone read that?

"Where's the Ferrari?" asked Ben

"Don't ask…" I moaned. He gave me a strange look. "The IRS impounded it."

"The IRS?"

"Yeah, funny story," I started bitterly, deciding to play the part of Winky the accountant. "My accountant," _wink_, "set up a corporation," _wink_, "on an island that doesn't exist and assured me that's how," _wink_, "rich people do it." I sighed. "The I got audited, slapped with a huge fine, _plus interest_!" I nodded. "You wanna know what the taxes are on five million dollars?" Ben shrugged. "Six million dollars." I sat down on the steps next to Ben. "But enough about me, what new with you?" I asked.

"Well," Ben started, in a tone that indicated his day was about as good as mine, "My girlfriend kicked me out, I'm living with my dad, and my family killed President Lincoln."

I grinned and nodded. "All right," I complimented… at least I think it was.

"I need your help," Ben said.

Ben needed _my_ help! Sweet! I was even more eager to help when I heard his plan…

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**AN: **You know the drill guys...


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